


Awakening

by Lilsi



Category: The Bill
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-19
Updated: 2014-04-19
Packaged: 2018-01-20 01:17:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1491364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilsi/pseuds/Lilsi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This fanfiction was once posted at Craiggilmore.co.uk a fan site no longer active, so to preserve this story and others, I am importing them to AO3. I did not want the loss of such a large amount of amazing and wonderful fanfiction, it would be such a waste to fans of Craig Gilmore and Luke Ashton to not have the opportunity to enjoy these stories as i have. Since the site is no longer active i have been unable to contact the creators but if you happen to be them under a new pen name and want the fiction to be removed please send me a note!</p><p>Story Written by - Bebe</p><p>Dedicated to Peter.</p><p>Set After after THE KISS.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Awakening

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfiction was once posted at Craiggilmore.co.uk a fan site no longer active, so to preserve this story and others, I am importing them to AO3. I did not want the loss of such a large amount of amazing and wonderful fanfiction, it would be such a waste to fans of Craig Gilmore and Luke Ashton to not have the opportunity to enjoy these stories as i have. Since the site is no longer active i have been unable to contact the creators but if you happen to be them under a new pen name and want the fiction to be removed please send me a note!
> 
> Story Written by - Bebe
> 
> Dedicated to Peter.
> 
> Set After after THE KISS.

Craig lay wide-awake in bed, going over and over in his mind the events that had occurred during the last couple of days.  However, continually at the forefront of his mind, was the memory of _The Kiss:_ that taste of heaven that was Luke Ashton’s mouth.  As the night wore on, he began to think that maybe he had been dreaming; that it hadn’t actually happened. Finally he slept.  But it was not a sleep of refreshment, it was a sleep of desire.  A desire that had him tossing and turning, until the sound of the alarm brought him back to reality.

 

He staggered out of bed, feeling as though he hadn’t slept for a month, and stumbled along the landing to the bathroom.  He turned the shower on to heat up while he used the loo, then he cleaned his teeth.  After all that wine last night, his mouth felt as though it didn’t belong to him.  He stepped under the shower: the water, lovely and warm, streamed over his body _,_ cosseting him, making him feel almost normal again.  It was helping him to blot out some of the hurt he was beginning to feel at Luke’s behaviour since that wonderful -- never to be forgotten -- episode in his office: the day that Reg had been rescued from his kidnappers.

 

Getting ready for work, he realised that he hadn’t been dreaming.  Luke _had_ kissed him.  It _was_ real.  The way his body was reacting told him it was real.  He could still almost feel Luke’s mouth on his; Luke’s tongue searching and darting in his mouth.  Craig could almost smell the smell that was Luke.  He had to sit down. 

 

He wondered what would have happened if Ken hadn’t come back looking for Luke to go down the pub to celebrate the release of Reg Hollis.  For now, though, he had to concentrate on getting ready for work, and he was excited at the prospect of seeing Luke again.

 

Craig was due to take the briefing, and was chivvying the younger PCs as they walked along the corridor, chatting.  He’d hoped to have a chat with Luke, but Gary, Kerry, and Cass surrounded him.

 

After they were all assigned their duties, the PCs drifted out of the briefing room.  Craig caught up with Luke as he made his way down the corridor towards the exit, and the area car he was driving today.

 

“Luke, just a minute,” Craig called, as he followed him along the corridor.  Luke stopped and turned round.

 

“Did you get my message last night?  I thought maybe we could go for a drink and have a chat after work tonight?”

 

Before Luke had time to answer, Gina Gold came up.

 

“Craig, can I have a word with you about the rotas?”

 

“What, now?” Craig turned towards her as he spoke.

 

“Yes, now!” ordered Gina, then to Luke she said, “Luke, aren’t you supposed to be on duty now?”

 

“Yes, Ma’am, just going, Ma’am,” replied Luke, who made a hasty exit.

 

Luke was glad she had intervened, because he didn’t know what to say to Craig -- his Sergeant.  He’d enjoyed the kiss last night, but was still amazed that he’d had the nerve to do it.  He’d found himself strangely attracted to his male sergeant from the day he'd started back at Sun Hill.  But he knew he wasn’t gay.  "I mean, I’ve been out with Kerry, haven’t I?” he found himself muttering as he approached the ramp.

 

He’d been out with Kerry the night before Reg had been found.  She’d asked him back to her flat to stay the night, but for some reason he’d declined, and had gone back alone, to his own flat.

 

When Luke got outside to the area car, he found Kerry waiting for him.  She was none-too-pleased at being paired up with Luke today, as she’d made a fool of herself -- or so she thought -- when Luke had turned her down.  ‘Still, I’ll get over it,’ she supposed.

 

On their shift, they found the van -- burnt out, of course -- that was being sought in connection with Reg’s kidnapping.

 

They were also involved with a young woman and her new baby.  It turned out that she had postnatal depression, and everything regarding the case had been sorted out by refs.

 

Back in the canteen, Luke was relaxing when Craig walked in.  He needed to speak to Luke, so he made his way over to where he was sitting.  Just as he got there, Kerry appeared, smiling and talking to Luke as she approached him.  Although disappointed, Craig commended them both for finding the van.  He then about turned and headed back to the counter to purchase a cup of tea.  Gina was there, and commented on the two young coppers.  Craig decided that there was nothing he could do until tomorrow.

 

The following day, Kerry had been assigned to number five beat on her own, and Luke, also alone, was in Sierra Eight Five.  Luke was still conscious of the kiss he’d had with Craig, and seemed determined to prove to himself that he wasn’t gay.  During the morning, he drove round to see Kerry on her beat.  He got out of the car, and of course, Kerry, being Kerry, had tried to kiss him.  He backed off, saying that he didn’t want to give Gilmore any more ammunition to ‘have a go’ at them.  She was making some comment about him being Gilmore’s ‘Golden Boy’, when a call came for assistance in dealing with an RTA.  Kerry was nearest, so she got Luke to drive her round to see what had happened. 

 

They had to request for extra assistance, and it was Craig and Gary who came to their aid.  Luke didn’t know what to do when Craig arrived and took control.

 

“Right, Luke, you go and find the driver -- you’ve got his address, haven’t you?”  The driver of the car had apparently run off and left his wife in the lurch.  Everything else was now under control: the paramedics were there, attending to a young man who had been jammed between two cars, and the wife of the driver, who was sat down waiting to be seen.

 

As Luke turned to go and carry out his duties, Craig called after him.

 

“Luke, can we talk first?”

 

“What about?”  He felt cornered.

 

“About the other night; about _us_.”

 

“Nothing happened, now leave me alone!  I just want to get on and find this bloke, what’s his name, Mr. Stevenson.”  With that, Luke strode off.

 

Poor Craig was devastated.  He knew that Luke was gay.  There was no way Luke would have kissed him so passionately if he was straight.

 

He and Gary got things sorted out and off they went.  Craig dropped Gary off at the nick then drove off to a piece of waste ground not far from the station.  He parked up, and just sat there thinking.  He left the radio on in case he was needed, but, if he was honest, it was so he could hear Luke’s voice if he had to radio in for anything.  Then a message came over the radio concerning Mr. Stevenson, the man Luke was looking for.  It seemed that he was now back home.

 

Craig noted the address, and drove off the vacant lot and headed for the address to confront Mr. Stevenson.  But uppermost in his mind was his desire to talk to Luke.  He couldn’t let it go, he was like a dog with a bone -- it was out of his control, he’d never felt like this about anyone else before.

 

He arrived at the house, just as the owner was about to leave again.  Craig spoke to him and was just about to re-enter the house with him, when Luke arrived.  From the look on his face, Luke was non-too-pleased to see Craig there.

 

“This is my collar, what’re you doing here?”

 

Craig was aware that he shouldn’t have been there, and said a little lamely, “I… I thought you might need some help.”

 

“If I want help, I’ll radio back for it!” Luke snapped.

 

“Luke, we need to talk, please.”  He knew he sounded weak, but he couldn’t help it.  He even wanted to kiss him there and then.

 

“Go away, and stop following me.  You’re practically stalking me!”

 

Luke turned away from him, and walked towards the front door of the house.  Craig, although gutted at Luke’s attitude, followed him into the house, standing a discrete distance behind him when Luke started talking to Mr. Stevenson.

 

Mr. Stevenson was proving to be very un co-operative, so Luke felt impelled to arrest him and was then forced to handcuff him when he turned aggressive.  Craig realised that, had he not been there, Luke may well have handled the situation differently.

 

Back at Sun Hill, during the interview, they found out that the driver of the car had been, in fact, the man’s wife.  She arrived at the station with Kerry, ready to sign a statement admitting to that fact.

 

Gina Gold, in custody, was non-too-pleased, imagining that there would be repercussion from a wrongful arrest.

 

Between them, Luke and Craig got matters sorted out, and the couple left looking ‘as happy as Larry’.  As they walked away, arm in arm, Gina Gold was at pains to enquire from Craig whether there would be any repercussions.

 

“Will we be sued for wrongful arrest, Craig?”

 

“No, Ma’am, Luke managed to talk it round in the end.  I apologised for everything and they seemed quite happy, especially after Mrs. Stevenson told her husband that she was pregnant.”

 

“Luke did that?”

 

“Yes, Ma’am,” Craig said _,_ as he turned back to go into his office, and Gina went into her’s.

 

Sometime later, Gina left her office to go back to custody, and saw Luke standing by the vending machine.

 

“Luke, I believe you sorted things out regarding the RTA?  Sergeant Gilmore said you did very well.”

 

“Thank you, Ma’am,” said a very surprised Luke Ashton.

 

Gina carried on up the corridor to the custody desk, and Luke remained standing where he was for a few moments -- his hands in his pockets -- thinking.  ‘The Sarge has made out that I sorted everything out, when it was really him.  Why?’  He walked slowly over to Craig’s office. The door of which was open.

 

He knocked on the doorframe, and Craig looked up.

 

“Luke.”  Craig’s heart started pounding, just looking at him leaning against the doorframe, his hands still in his pockets.

 

“What did you say to Inspector Gold?”  Luke could feel his pulse racing as he spoke to him.

 

Craig pushed himself up, using the edge of his desk…

 

“Well you might have been able to talk to him properly, if I hadn’t been there.”  He was looking into Luke’s beautiful brown eyes as he walked slowly towards him.  Craig stopped right in front of him.

 

“Sounds familiar, doesn’t it, not being able to talk properly?”  His eyes remained fixed on Luke’s.

 

“You…” Luke looked around nervously, before continuing, “You mean ‘Us’?”  They continued to stare at one another.

 

“I just want to get things sorted out, that’s all,” said Craig, very quietly.

 

At that moment, Kerry came back.  She looked at the two of them then shrugged.  When she spoke to them, the two men had great difficulty coming back to ‘the here and now’, having been lost in a world of their own.

 

Luke had stood away from the doorframe while Craig was stood in front of him; now he needed to lean back against it to compose himself.  He moved sideways to lean against it -- still looking at Craig -- but missed it, and had to stop himself from falling.  He quickly recovered and leant against the doorframe once more.

 

It seemed, according to the digging that Kerry had done, that Mrs. Stevenson didn’t, in fact, have a driver’s licence, and Craig sent them both off to bring the couple back in.  Craig told them to be careful, which Kerry seemed to think was funny.  ‘Why do we need to be careful?  It’s only a couple of bodies -- rather stupid ones at that,’ she thought to herself, as she and Luke made their way out of the station.  ‘The Sarge must be losing it,’ she thought, as they got back into Sierra Eight Five.

 

No one was at the Stevenson’s house when they got there.  Then they got a radio call telling them that there was something they should go and look at in the Stevenson’s car, still on the road where the RTA had occurred. 

 

As they left the house, Kerry said to Luke, “Do you fancy going out when the shift is finished?”

 

Luke turned to her and grinned.  “Yes, I’d like that.”  ‘See,’ he said to himself, ’I can’t be gay.  Kerry still wants to go out with me.’

 

When they reached the car, they found the back of it full of cannabis plants.  They also found a very stupid Mr. Stevenson returning to his car, and arrested him before he had a chance to get away.

 

Back at Sun Hill, Luke reported to Sergeant Gilmore, saying that he’d handed the notes over to 'B' Relief, as Mr. Stevenson had asked for a brief.

 

Anxious to keep Luke near him for as long as possible, Craig offered to okay the overtime if Luke wanted to continue with the case.

 

“No thanks, I’ve had enough of the Stevensons for today.”

 

“I understand, Luke…”  He hesitated and then said, “I meant what I said; about us needing to talk.”

 

“No, I can’t.”  Luke shook his head as he spoke.

 

“Luke, you kissed me, remember?  Or do you just expect me to forget about it?”

 

Luke, adopting his arrogant, cocky face, nodded his head and said, “Yes… yes, just forget about it.”

 

Craig couldn’t believe what he was hearing.  He just stood there totally bewildered.

 

As Luke turned away, Kerry came up to him.

 

“Are you ready?” she asked Luke.

 

“Ready for what?”

 

“If you don’t know what, PC Ashton, you’d better go home and find out!” shouted Gina Gold from her office, opposite Craig’s.

 

As Luke and Kerry walked off arm in arm, grinning from ear to ear, Craig and Gina met in the middle of the corridor.  After a quick glance at them both, as they disappeared around the corner, Gina remarked,

 

“I think things will be okay; but you’d better keep your eyes on them, just the same.”

 

“Yes, Ma’am,” he said quietly, as he walked with her into her office.

 

“How’s your love life, then?”

 

“Fine, going well,” he said half-heartedly.  He was wishing he hadn’t told her that he thought he’d met ‘the one’.

 

“Don’t look so miserable, you old tart!” she snapped.

 

Later that evening, Luke and Kerry were in the new wine bar, and Kerry was chatting ‘ten to the dozen’.  Luke was only half listening -- he wasn’t feeling the way he thought he should feel, being out with a pretty girl -- as he couldn’t get the memory of that kiss out of his mind.  He’d kissed Kerry on the way to the wine bar, but had felt nothing -- until the memory of kissing Craig’s lips burst through his thoughts.

 

Kerry excused herself to go to the ladies, and Luke was left alone with his thoughts.  Thoughts he felt he shouldn’t have; after all, he was definitely straight.  Yet in his heart, he realised that if he had to convince himself that he was straight then he had a big problem.  When Kerry returned, he went to get them another drink from the bar. 

 

At the bar, he ordered two glasses of wine.  While the lad behind the bar poured the wine, out of the corner of his eye he was aware of two men up at the other end of the bar.  He glanced in their direction. 

 

“No…it can’t be,” he muttered to himself.  “No, not Craig and Carl _bloody_ Jones?”  He couldn’t believe his eyes.  Not the lovely Craig, with that waster Carl Jones!  Carl Jones was a petty criminal he’d known since his school days.  Luke could hardly breathe; he had to get away from them.

 

He hastily paid for the wine, and carried the two glasses back over to Kerry.  He placed them on the table and sank down on his seat.  It was still going round his head -- ‘not Craig and Carl Jones… oh God…no… why didn’t I talk to Craig when he wanted me to?’  The thoughts were whirling around in his brain, crowding out everything else.  He was suddenly aware that Kerry was talking to him.

 

“Sorry, Kerry, did you say something?”

 

“I said, are you okay?  You look very pale.”

 

“Err… no, I’m not feeling too good at all.  Do you mind if we call it a day?  I’ll get you a cab to take you home.”

 

Kerry was slightly miffed, as she’d imagined that tonight she’d eventually get Luke into her bed.

 

“Fine, okay, whatever you want, Luke,” she was beginning to feeling pretty cheesed-off. 

 

As Luke sat finishing his wine, he noticed Craig heading for the gents.

 

“I’ll just go to the gents, Kerry then I’ll ‘phone for a cab for you,” he said, as he stood up, anxious to get to the gents before Craig came back out.  Kerry just looked at him and continued to drink her wine.

 

Luke reached the gents as fast as he could, without appearing to dash.  He pushed open the door and he saw Craig with his back to him, standing at the sink, washing his hands.  Craig glanced up into the mirror, then away again -- the way men do -- then his head shot back up again as he realised that it was Luke coming in, not just some faceless bloke in need of a pee.

 

“Luke,” he could hardly get the word out.

 

“Sarge.”  Luke, too, was having difficulty speaking, as his heart was pounding and he couldn’t get his breath.  Their eyes locked through the mirror.

 

“Sarge, are you seeing Carl Jones?”

 

Craig took a deep breath, at the same time thinking, ‘What is it with, Luke?  He’s made it quite clear that he’s not interested, yet at the first sight of me with another man, he becomes the ‘Spanish Inquisitor'.’

 

“What’s it to you?” he finally snapped.

 

“He’s bad news, Sarge, really.”

 

"Oh, yes, and how do you know?”  This was getting silly.  A PC trying to tell his Sergeant who he should, and who he shouldn’t, see.

 

“Sarge, we were at school together, and I still know people who know him and what he’s up to.”  He looked away.  He couldn’t bear the thought of Craig with that creep.  Just then the object of Luke’s hatred came in.

 

“Craig, thought you’d done a runn… Lukey Boy, what you doin’ here?”

 

Craig looked at Carl, then at Luke.  ‘Had there been something between them, all those years ago at school?’ he wondered.

 

“Just coming,” said Craig, as he turned towards Carl.

 

“See you in the morning, PC Ashton; and don’t be late!” he snapped.

 

He had to get away from Luke.  He desperately wanted to touch him -- kiss him, really -- but just a touch of his hand against Luke’s bare arm would do.

 

“Come on, Carl, let’s go.”  Craig pushed Carl out through the door, and Luke was left there alone, now leaning against the washbowl to prevent himself from slumping to the floor.

 

Eventually, he recovered enough to go back to Kerry, who was by this time seething at having been left sitting alone for so long.

 

“I’ll just ring you a cab, Kerry,” he said apologetically.

 

“Whatever,” was her short reply.

 

He made the call, and then escorted Kerry outside the bar and waited with her until the cab arrived.  He handed her some money, which at first she refused, but he insisted and stuffed it into her hands, then he opened the door and helped her into the cab.

 

“See you tomorrow, Kerry.  Sorry I’m not feeling too well,” he said, as she climbed into the back of the cab.  She just glared at him.

 

Luke went back inside and walked straight up to the bar.

 

“Double scotch and dry, please,” he asked the lad behind the bar.

 

* * * *

 

The lad behind the bar had actually seen Luke go into the gents after Craig then Carl, after a while, had followed.  As the barman knew Carl from various gay clubs he’d been to, he watched events unfolding with great interest.

 

He’d seen Craig and Carl come out of the gents together -- Craig, he had to admit, was quite dashing -- with Craig almost propelling Carl out, his hand on Carl’s shoulder.  Carl had a sickly grin on his face, but Craig’s face was unreadable.  A short time later, he’d seen Luke come out of the gents, and return to a table at which sat an attractive young lady.  He could see that she wasn’t best pleased, and looked distinctly annoyed as the young man stood talking to her.

 

Later, he’d seen them leave together, and had decided that, on this occasion, he’d been wrong.  Maybe the young man wasn’t gay after all?  The barman had therefore been surprised to see Luke’s quick return to the bar, this time alone.

 

* * * *

 

Luke knocked back the scotch and dry in one go, and asked for another one.  He couldn’t get out of his mind the sight of Craig, and that bastard, Carl.  Carl could ruin his career, if Craig wasn’t careful.  But uppermost in his mind was how had Craig met him?  He knew that, although Craig was open about his sexuality, he didn’t ‘cruise’ the bars.  After all, he’d been in a steady relationship for a couple of years until the acrimonious split a couple of months previously, when Luke and Inspector Gold had been called to a ‘domestic’ and found it involved Craig and his ex-lover.

 

Luke could still remember the way his stomach had flipped -- but couldn’t understand why -- when Craig had opened the front door and invited him in.  He couldn’t understand, either, why he’d wanted to help his Sergeant retain the property that Sean was laying claim to, when it in fact belonged to Craig.  Craig had told Luke that the items weren’t worth fighting for, all the time maintaining eye contact with him.

 

For some reason, although he’d wanted to stay, he’d felt the need to get back outside in the fresh air.  He found breathing in Craig’s presence very difficult.  He’d even refused Craig’s offer of help to carry the items outside to a waiting Sean.

 

The next day, Luke wouldn’t even allow Craig to thank him properly for being discreet, and rejected his offer of a drink down the pub, either that night, or any other night Luke might choose.

 

As he stood by the bar, his mind and his emotions were all over the place, as he struggled to come to terms with the way he was feeling.  ”I’m straight, for heavens sake,” he muttered to himself.

 

“Sorry, sir, did you say something?”

 

“Err… same again, please.”  He needed to get drunk; very drunk indeed.

 

* * * *

 

The barman decided to keep an eye on Luke, just to make sure he was okay.

 

After a couple more doubles, Luke had decided what he was going to do.  He took his mobile out of his pocket, and tried to tap in the number of a mini cab company.  His fingers didn’t work properly.

 

“Scuse me, mate… can you… can you, err… ’phone a cab for me…?”

 

He gestured to the barman to take the mobile, and tap the number in for him.  The barman did as Luke requested then asked Luke where he was going, and the name to book the taxi under.  Luke told him the area, but not the actual street, and stated his surname for the booking.  Finishing the call, the barman handed the mobile back to Luke, who then had great difficulty in putting it back in his pocket.  At last he managed it, and Luke decided to have one more for the road.

 

The guy behind the bar wasn’t sure, but guessed that the lad was trying to pluck up courage to do something.  One way or another, one more drink probably wouldn’t do him too much harm.

 

Luke paid for the drink, knocked it back, and then lurched away from the bar in the general direction of the front door.  Eventually he managed to negotiate the revolving doors and found himself outside, ready and waiting for his mini cab.

 

“Taxi for Ashton… Taxi for Ashton!  Hey, mate!  You ordered a cab then?”

 

Luke looked in the cabbie's general direction. “Oh… yeah… a taxi.  Thanks, mate… Luke very slowly opened the door and gingerly climbed aboard.

 

“Where to, mate?” asked the driver, wishing he’d gone home half an hour ago, instead of hanging on for a while.

 

“Where to…? Yeah, where to…? Erm… err… oh yes,” he muttered, as he sat up straight, and gave the driver the address to which he wished to be taken.

 

* * * *

 

The front door bell was being rung continuously.  Going towards the door, Craig couldn’t help shouting, “For God’s sake, get you finger off my bloody bell!”

 

He pulled open the door, and Luke nearly fell in.

 

“Luke, what the hell are you doing here?” he snapped.

 

Luke just stared at him, just about managing to stay upright by holding on to the doorframe, and grinning like a Cheshire cat.

 

“Get inside now!” hissed Craig, as he grabbed Luke’s arm and guided him through the door.  Feeling both elated and apprehensive at the same time, he propelled Luke into his lounge.

 

“What the hell are you doing here?  You’re supposed to be out with the ‘lovely Kerry’!”  Craig almost spat the words out, he was so annoyed.

 

‘Why can’t he leave me alone? He’s made it quite clear that he's not interested,’ Craig thought to himself, as Luke continued to grin for England.  Luke sat down on Craig’s sofa, and started to rock gently, backwards and forwards, looking at Craig all the time.

 

Seeing the condition Luke was in, Craig decided that black coffee was the order of the day.  Luke was totally out of it.  ‘God, I hope he isn’t sick all over everywhere,’ Craig thought, as he kept a close eye on his unexpected visitor, before going into the kitchen.

 

Slowly, Luke’s face started to change colour.

 

“Craig… Sarge, I think I’m gonna be sick.”  Luke tried to stand up.

 

‘Not on my sofa you’re not!’ Craig thought.  “Come on, Luke, upstairs to the bathroom.” 

 

Without any ceremony, he yanked Luke up onto his feet, and frog-marched him out through the lounge doorway, and up the stairs to his bathroom.  Time and luck was with them, as Craig managed to get Luke into the bathroom, down on his knees, with his head over the toilet bowl, before he brought his guts up.

 

Craig rubbed his back as Luke retched and retched.  He thought Luke was never going to stop.  He kept flushing the loo to get rid of whatever it was that Luke had consumed that night.

 

Luke could only groan.  He felt as though he was dying, which would have been a merciful release from what he was now feeling. 

 

“Never again… never again,” he mumbled.

 

At that moment in time, he couldn’t remember why he’d drunk so much, or where he was.  Someone was rubbing his back, which he had to admit felt really good, but other than that, he was completely out of it.

 

Eventually, he appeared to have finished being sick, and Craig decided that maybe it would be okay to move him now.  He tried to pull Luke up onto his feet, but by now he had become a dead weight.

 

“Come on, Luke, stand up, please.”

Luke ignored him

 

“Luke!  PC Ashton!  Stand up now!”

 

That seemed to penetrate the mush that now appeared to be occupying Luke’s skull where his brain should have been.  He pushed himself up by the edge of the toilet bowl and stood in front of Craig for a few seconds, then his knees started to buckle, and finally he lost the will to live.  Craig just managed to catch him before he fell to the floor.

 

“Oh hell, what do I do now?” he said out loud, as he held on to Luke Ashton, the young man who had affected him so deeply.  There was nothing for it, he’d have to pick Luke up and carry him into his bedroom.

 

He took a deep breath and picked up the slight figure, negotiated the bathroom door, as well as the bedroom door, and plonked Luke on his bed.  No point in trying to be gentle: Luke wasn’t capable of noticing.  Craig rolled him over so he could pull down the duvet, then he rolled Luke back onto the sheet.  ‘Should I leave him as he is, dressed in his jeans, or what?’  While he thought about it, he took off Luke’s trainers and socks.

 

He decided that he’d take Luke's jeans off, too, so that Luke would be able to turn over in his sleep without difficulty.  He undid the zip of Luke’s jeans, and pushed them down from the waist, then walked to the end of the bed and pulled the jeans down over his feet, and put them on a chair.  Craig gasped as he saw Luke lying there, in his bed, dressed in just his T-shirt and underpants.  He’d dreamt of nothing else since _The Kiss_.  Now he had Luke in his bed, but -- unfortunately -- wouldn't be able to do anything with him.  He wanted Luke to be awake.  If ever he had Luke in his bed again, he wanted Luke to be fully _‘compos mentis’_ and be able to enjoy the experience.  He also had to be there of his own free will.

 

He covered Luke up with the duvet, and just gently kissed him on the cheek.  Even the brief touch was enough to send his senses reeling.  He made a hasty exit from the bedroom, and went back downstairs.

 

He headed to the kitchen and made himself a mug of coffee.  He took it into his lounge and sat on the sofa.  He sat wondering what Luke was doing here, in his house, drunk out of his mind and now comatose in his bed.  He was baffled. 

 

The last Craig had seen of Luke was in the wine bar, when he’d left the gents with Carl. Outside, he and Carl had had words.  Carl was of the impression that Luke was gay and, as he put it, ‘after my boyfriend’.  Craig, of course, had wanted to know why Carl thought that Luke was gay.  Carl muttered something about school.  Craig didn’t want to think of Luke and Carl together, so had not pursued it, but it was sufficient for Craig to realise that he didn’t want Carl in his life, or anywhere near Luke.  Craig had given Carl a lift home, and told him that he wouldn’t be seeing him again.  Carl hadn’t been too pleased, but, ‘What the Hell,’ he'd thought, ‘Craig’s not the only fish in the sea -- it’s his loss anyway.’  As Craig had driven home, he’d even wondered why he’d gone out with Carl in the first place, and was glad it had only been the once.

 

Craig hadn’t been home very long, when his front door bell was the target of some GBH at the hands of PC Luke Ashton.  The PC who had kissed him -- in his office at the station -- and then had refused to acknowledge his feelings in the days afterwards.  Yet here he was, in his house, in his bed, drunk as a lord.

 

Craig had left the bedroom door open, as well as the lounge door, so that if he heard Luke as much as even whimper, he’d be up the stairs like a shot.  No way did he want Luke being sick all over his bed.

 

Craig drank his coffee, and tried to watch a bit of television, but his mind was elsewhere.  He was going to have to sleep in his bed with Luke.  He did, indeed, have a spare bedroom, but at the moment it was still full of junk from the move, and the bed for that room was still standing upright against the wall.

 

He liked the idea of sleeping in the same bed with Luke, but how would Luke react in the morning?  It had been bad enough after _The Kiss_.  Still there wasn’t anything he could do about it.  Luke had come here of his own free will, so he’d have to put up with the consequences of his actions.

 

Craig turned the television off, and after making sure that everywhere was locked up and the lights were out, he climbed the stairs.  He used the bathroom, left his jeans in the laundry basket, and padded back into his bedroom wearing just his T-shirt and boxers. 

 

Craig crept in, and found Luke as he’d thought: comatose, lying on his back, with his left arm up and resting over his head.  He looked lovely to Craig, as he stood there looking at him.  His body told him how much he wanted him, but not this way.  Craig pulled back the duvet, and gingerly climbed in next to Luke: Luke didn’t move a muscle.  Craig lay there, looking at Luke: his face, his lips relaxed in deep sleep, his long eyelashes just resting on his cheek.  He looked so beautiful.  Craig turned away from Luke.  He knew he’d get no sleep if he continued to look at him.

 

His turning away from Luke must have penetrated Luke’s brain, because as Craig turned, Luke turned towards him and flung his right arm over Craig.  It caused Craig to draw in his breath.  ‘God,’ he thought, ‘how am I going to get through the night with Luke Ashton’s arm over me?’  It felt so right though, and fall asleep he did, still with Luke’s arm clasped round him.

 

At the sound of the alarm, Craig shot up in bed, wondering why he was so close to the edge of the bed?  Then he remembered.  He turned and saw Luke, now turned the opposite way and curled up in the foetal position.  There was no way he’d be fit for duty today, so Craig decided that he would get to work early, hopefully before Gina Gold got there, and say that Luke had rung in sick.  That seemed to be the easiest option.

 

He wrote a note telling Luke why he was in his bed, and that he would report Luke as being off sick.  He also asked Luke to stay there until he’d finished his shift, so that they could talk when he got home.  Craig realised, of course, that Luke could have ‘upped and gone home’ by then, and he’d never know why he’d called at the house.

 

Before he left, he crept upstairs again and left the note on his pillow so that Luke would see it when he finally woke up.  Luke looked so young, childlike even, lying there curled up in the big bed.  After he’d placed the note on his pillow, he leant over and kissed Luke on his cheek.  Taking a deep breath, he sighed and left the room.

 

Downstairs, he left a second note for Luke, after he’d tidied away after himself.  He collected his car keys and jacket, and left the house, unable to lock the Chubb lock in case Luke wanted to leave, rather than talk to him later.

 

He walked over to his car, got in, and switched the engine on.  He fastened his seat belt and indicated his intention to pull away from the kerb, into the road.

 

He arrived at Sun Hill just before Inspector Gold, and hastily made a note on a sheet of paper, to the effect that PC Ashton had phoned in sick.

 

“You’re in bloody early, aren’t you, Gilmore?”  She sounded niggly.  Obviously hadn’t had her first fag of the shift yet.

 

She thought that he seemed a bit more perky today.  ‘Must be the new boyfriend -- but why does he have to be so bloody perky first thing?’ she wondered. 

 

He was like ‘ _a cat on a hot tin roof’_ for the rest of the day.  He was half expecting Luke to ‘phone the station and ask him what was going on, but no such call came.  Craig had drawn the short straw, so to speak, and was in CAD.  He thought of ‘phoning Luke half way through the day, but decided against it.  He didn’t want to give Luke any excuse to bolt, and didn’t really want to know if Luke had left before he got back home.  Ignorance was bliss.

 

At the end of the shift, Craig changed as quickly as possible then practically ran down the ramp to his car, in his haste to get back home.

 

* * * *

 

Luke had finally woken up at about two o’clock in the afternoon.  His head throbbed, and his mouth felt like the stuff you put on the bottom of a budgie’s birdcage.  He felt rough: his head felt as though it was about to explode, and whoever was making that banging noise had better stop, or they’d have him to answer to.  That was until he realised that the hammering was actually going on in his head.

 

At first he didn’t know where he was.  He looked round, and noticed a photo on the wall.  It was the one he’d noticed at Craig’s house -- lying in a box -- of the ‘passing out’ parade at Hendon.  He must be in the Sarge's -- Craig's -- house.  ‘Bloody hell’ he thought, ‘how did I get here?’  He lay back for a minute, and then it all started to come back.  He flung the duvet back and saw the note on Craig’s pillow. 

 

He picked it up, and once he could get his eyes to focus at close quarters, he was able to read it.  The Sarge was covering for him again.  As his brain began to function properly, he remembered last night.  His date with Kerry, at the wine bar; Craig arriving with Carl; putting Kerry in a taxi, and going back inside for a drink.  After that it was all just a blur.  How did he get here, get up the stairs, and get undressed?  ‘Oh, God, _he_ must have undressed me!’  He felt a rush of blood to his cheeks as he thought of this, and somewhere in his mind he seemed to remember holding someone and lying really close to their body.

 

His body’s reaction to that thought surprised him; even more of a surprise was the fact that he actually enjoyed the thought of being close to the Sarge… Craig.

 

He climbed out of Craig’s bed, taking the note with him.  In the bathroom he had a shower, and went back into the bedroom to get dressed.  He was beginning to feel hungry, so he made his way downstairs; the note in his hand once more.

 

In the kitchen, he noticed that Craig had left him another note, telling him where things were; things he might need for some breakfast.  Craig had left out a plate and mug ready for him, the rest he would have to look for.  He found some bread in the bread bin and placed two slices in the toaster, found the milk and butter in the ‘fridge, and looking in a wall cupboard, he found some Marmite -- just what the doctor ordered for ‘the morning after the night before’.  He filled the kettle and switched it on, put some coffee in his mug, and sat down at the kitchen table waiting for the toast to pop up.

 

He made the coffee when the kettle had boiled, buttered the now ready toast, and spread it with the Marmite.  At least he was beginning to feel like a human being again. Then, more of his memory began to return.

 

“Oh, my God, I was sick,” he muttered to himself.  “I was sick in the Sarge’s house.”  His thought returned to where he’d slept and then he’d realised that as he’d slept in Craig’s bed, then Craig must have been in it too; after all, he remembered seeing a dent in the other pillow on the bed when he’d woken up.  He sat there for a minute, a piece of toast in his hand, halfway up to his mouth, as he remembered that he’d hugged someone in his sleep.  But far from going berserk -- as he’d expected, with the knowledge that he’d slept with another man -- he felt a warm glow.  Craig had already awakened something in his _psyche_ : something that he’d tried to suppress for years.

 

After he’d finished what could be called a late lunch, Luke washed his dishes, and the ones that Craig had left.  He dried them and left them on the counter top.  What should he do now?  Make a getaway, or wait for Craig to come home and, as he’d written, have a talk?  Seeing as he was already here, he decided to stay: after all what harm could it do?

 

He made his way into the lounge and turned on the television; daytime television was quite banal, but it suited him for the moment while he waited for Craig to come home.  He thought of him now as Craig, not the Sarge.  After a while, he took his trainers off, and put his feet up on the sofa, eventually dozing off.  The television was still on: Jessica Fletcher was doing her stuff, sorting a murder out in ‘ _Murder, She Wrote’._

 

* * * *

 

Craig parked his carat the kerb, and got out.  Locking it, he was beginning to feel very apprehensive.  Would Luke still be there, or had he gone away, angry at what had occurred?  His palms were sweaty, and he wiped them down the sides of his jeans.  This worrying wasn’t helping matters: better he just go in and find out what was what.

 

He unlocked the door just using the yale key, and walked into his hallway.  He listened: he could hear the television. ‘That’s promising,’ he thought, as he walked up the hall and into the lounge.  The television was indeed on, and Luke: well, Luke was curled up like a baby on the sofa.  He looked so lovely lying there, that Craig just wanted to crouch down and kiss him.  He didn’t know what Luke’s reaction would be though, if he woke up as he was doing it: punch him on the nose, probably.

 

He cleared his throat -- nothing -- then did it once more.  There was only a slight reaction from the sleeping Luke, so he called out his name.

 

“Luke… Luke… Luke!”  He waited while Luke unwound himself and sat up.

 

“Sarge…”

 

“Yes, Luke?” he interrupted, questioningly.  He hoped his voice didn’t betray the way he was feeling.  He just wanted to gather Luke up in his arms and hold him tight.

 

“Sar…”

 

“Oh for heaven's sake, Luke!”  This was going to be more difficult than he’d thought.

“Do you want a drink, Luke: tea, coffee, wine?”

 

“Sarge, err…wine’ll be fine.”

 

“Hair of the dog, eh, Luke?  Okay, fine, but please we’re not at work now, please will you call me Craig?  Do you mind?”

 

“Oh no, I don’t mind… Craig.”  Luke had the decency to blush.

 

Craig went into the kitchen and poured two glasses of wine.  His hands were shaking, and he hoped that Luke wouldn’t notice.  He carried them back into the lounge and handed one to Luke.

 

“Here you are, Luke.”

 

“Thanks…err, Craig,” said a very nervous Luke, as he accepted the glass.

 

Craig sat down in an armchair, opposite the sofa.

 

“What happened last night, Luke?  What made you come here, drunk out of your skull?” he questioned.

 

When no immediate response came, Craig tried again.  “Come on, Luke, tell me why you’re here?”

 

“Err… well, I don’t know really.”

 

“Really?” questioned Craig, raising his eyebrow.  “Wouldn’t have anything to do with seeing me with Carl, would it?” he asked softly.

 

Craig could see by the look on Luke’s face -- as well as his clenched fists -- that he’d scored a direct hit.

 

“Luke, why does it upset you to know that I’m seeing Carl?”

 

“He’s no good!”

 

“How do you know about Carl?”

 

“We were at school together.”

 

“Is that all?”  Craig again raised his eyebrow as he asked the question.

 

“You and him, that’s all.”

 

“And?”

 

“Just the thought of it… it’s horrible.”

 

“You know I’m gay, Luke.  Carl’s gay.  What’s the problem?” Craig asked, starting to get annoyed.

 

“He used to be after anything in trousers, at school…”  Luke faltered.

 

“Including you, Luke?”

 

“Yeah… he was horrible: I didn’t want _him_ touching _me_.”

 

“So, if he’d been a nice person, you might have let him?”

 

“No… Yes… I don’t know.”

 

Craig got up out of the armchair, and went and sat down on the sofa by Luke.  “Luke, why did you kiss me in my office?"

 

Luke turned to face him: their eyes probing the other's face.  Then they gazed at one another for what seemed like an eternity.  Luke leaned over and brushed his lips against Craig’s.  It was amazing; it was like an electric shock to them both.  Luke leaned away to look at Craig.  Craig’s face was a study of bliss.

 

“Oh, Luke,” Craig gasped, but he had to pull himself together. 

 

“Luke, what are you playing at?” he said, as he tried to stand up.

 

“Craig, don’t you want me to kiss you?” Luke asked, worried that he’d made a big mistake.

 

”What!  And have you make my life a misery, tomorrow and the day after… no thanks.”

 

“Craig,” Luke put his hand on Craig’s arm, “Why do you think I got so upset about Carl?  Why do you think I sent Kerry home in a taxi, then came here?"

 

“You had to get very drunk to come here, Luke.”  Craig was trying to get his head around what Luke was saying.

 

“I thought Carl might be here, and I couldn’t face that bastard sober.”

 

“What if I told you that that I wasn’t going to see Carl anymore?” Craig said as he stood up, finishing the glass of wine as he did so.

 

Luke stared at him.  Then rising slowly from the sofa, he too finished the wine.  He handed the empty glass to Craig, who took it, and moved away to place it, with his own, on the nearest coffee table.  Moving back, Craig stood in front of Luke, his eyes searching Luke’s face once more.  His heart was racing; he knew he was aroused, but looking at Luke, so was he.  God, he needed to hold him... hold him so close.  But he was afraid.  He was afraid that Luke was messing him around, would hurt him again.

 

Luke looked at Craig.  He wanted to feel those lips again, oh how he wanted it!  He also knew that he would have to make the first move -- this time -- and mean it.  Taking a deep breath, he walked into Craig’s personal space, then put his arms up and ran his fingers through Craig’s thick hair, before bestowing tiny kisses on his lips.  Craig moaned: he couldn’t believe that Luke was here, kissing him again.  There’d be no Ken coming to interrupt them this time.  ‘What does Luke want?’ he wondered.

 

As if Luke could read Craig’s mind, his hands came down from Craig’s hair, and started to wander as if they had a mind of their own.  Round Craig’s back, caressing him, stroking his back, down to his waist.

 

“Luke, what are you trying to do to me?” Craig gasped.

 

“I thought that that was quite obvious,” he replied into Craig’s ear, then kissed the ear and nipped the lobe with his teeth.

 

Craig couldn’t _not_ reciprocate: God he wanted this, and nothing but this, since the kiss _._  His hands were all over Luke, gently at first, becoming more urgent as his desire heightened. 

 

“Oh, Luke, will you come to bed with me?”  He was almost begging, but he couldn’t help himself.

 

“I thought you’d never ask,” said Luke, as he continued to explore Craig’s body.

 

“Luke, not here.  Come on, let’s go upstairs."  The two of them walked towards the door into the hallway, still kissing.  They had to break away from each other to get through the door, and to get upstairs.  Craig went up first, Luke following closely behind him.  When they got to the top of the stairs, Craig took hold of Luke’s hand, and led him into the bedroom and over to the bed they’d both shared the previous evening.  Craig sat on the end of the bed, and motioned that Luke should do the same.

 

“Luke, we need to talk.”  ‘Why am I always bleating on about talking?’ Craig asked himself.  But for him it was the only way to go.  He had to know what Luke wanted.  Did he want a relationship, or just a 'one night stand’?  If it were the latter, then Luke would have to look elsewhere.  Craig would not be a 'one night stand’, no matter how much he wanted to make love to Luke Ashton.  He loved Luke and wanted a proper relationship with him or nothing at all.

 

Luke, sitting next to him on the bed, knew, too, that it was time to talk.

 

“Craig, you’ve awakened feelings in me that I thought I’d suppressed years ago.  I had a crush on a male teacher at school, and that’s just what I thought it was -- an adolescent crush.  All the boys said they went through it, so I pushed it deep down into my subconscious, I suppose, and never thought any more about it until my first day back at Sun Hill.”

 

Luke kept his gaze on Craig’s face as he continued.  “Even though you were so horrible to me, you were there, in my head, all the time.  You wouldn’t go away, no matter how hard I tried to push the thoughts out of my head.  Then, that day we spent trying to find Reg, well for me it was bliss: just you and me, out together, no one else near us to spoil things.  Then when I kissed you back in your office, I couldn’t believe how good it felt.  God, you’ve no idea how wonderful it was…”

 

“I think I might have some idea, Luke.  I’ve never felt like that about anyone else before,” Craig interrupted.  “But why were you so horrible the next day, yet talked about _‘us’_ the day after that?”

 

“Craig, I was scared.  I couldn’t believe that I was gay.  I thought it would just be a one off, but when I saw you with Carl last night, I felt so jealous.  I wanted it to be _me_ that you were taking out, not that bastard.”

 

“Oh, Luke, I only went out with Carl because you’d made it quite clear that you didn’t want me.  We just met in a café, and it felt good to be wanted; but as soon as I saw you in the wine bar, I realised that I could never replace you, and that I wanted only you.  I told Carl I couldn’t see him again when we left the bar.”

 

Luke moved closer to Craig until their shoulders were touching.  Even that slight contact was enough to make them draw in their breaths.

 

“Craig, can I ask you something?”

 

“Yes of course, Luke, what is it?”

 

“When I slept with you last night, did we…did we do anything?”

 

“Luke, what do you take me for?  I want you, yes, I want to make love to you -- but I want you awake, knowing what’s going on.  I want you to enjoy the experience, and I want you to make love to me, but only if _you_ want to.”

 

“Oh, Craig, I want to,” Luke said, as he put his arm around Craig’s shoulder.  “I really want to be with you, if that’s what you want too?”

 

Craig turned sideways to look into Luke’s face.  He cupped Luke’s face in his hands and kissed his lips gently, then more passionately.  As he broke away for air, Craig stood up, putting his hand out to Luke, who grasped it and stood up also.  Still holding his hand, Craig walked Luke around the side of the bed then pulled down the duvet with his free hand.

 

He began to undress Luke, until he was stood before him, naked and aroused.  Luke, in turn, removed all of Craig’s clothes, and stared at his arousal in wonderment.  They climbed into bed together, and lay down, their bodies touching, straining against each other, as desire overtook them.

 

In this, their first time in bed together, they consummated their love for one another: vowing to stay together for as long as they lived, with Craig feeling honoured that it had been he that had had the privilege of awakening the love that Luke had to give.

 

Together, they would face any problems that came their way: their love would surmount everything.

 

The End


End file.
